


the words left unsaid

by renisabitcrazy



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Break Up, Hurt No Comfort, I cant believe I typed that out, Langa Hasegawa is an Idiot, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Break Up, Reki Kyan is an Idiot, Reki Kyan just spirals for less than 2k words, Teen Angst, This is a first, because of course it is, because teen angst is a special kind of angst, no happy ending, they are both bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29559486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renisabitcrazy/pseuds/renisabitcrazy
Summary: Everything was perfect. Then it wasn't.Or: the break-up fic that no one asked for.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	the words left unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this fanart](https://twitter.com/_miintee/status/1362571408648232960?s=20). Yes it's ushiten and haikyuu but the sentiment applies.
> 
> Also. The [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6jRtcFwmrjWcqwZNibOB2P?si=513xmskhSGeEPDhcqg_0wg) I listened to while writing this. 
> 
> Enjoy.

It’s quiet. 

Not  _ quiet _ exactly, where there’s no sound. He can hear the boiling of  _ something _ in the direction of the kitchen ( _ tea _ , his mind will supply later, when the stinging in his eyes lessens somewhat). He can hear laughter from, from  _ somewhere _ ( _ living room _ , he will find out, after hours have passed and moving doesn’t ache quite as much). He can faintly hear his mom calling his name even as he shuts his bedroom door behind him ( _ you’re gonna eat shit for that _ a small part in him quietly supplies, but he can’t bring himself to care). 

He can hear the sounds of life and movement and happiness and he hates it just a little bit, hates how everything seems to be moving and working and functioning when everything he knows has come to a standstill. 

So no. There’s still sound. Not quiet like that. But quiet like this:

The quiet when he saw his friend in the hospital, bandages wrapped around their head and the soft voice that said  _ “I don’t think I can do this anymore” _ coming from a face that was turned away from him. The quiet that came when he watched his board go up in flames, coupled with the stinging sense of failure. The quiet after seeing  _ him _ make that goal, the ball hitting the net with a definite  _ thunk _ , watching everyone else crowd around him and the realisation that maybe, just maybe, the problem was him. 

It’s all the noise fading, the constant buzzing in his head stopping to leave nothing but silence.

Reki really doesn’t like it. 

They say the world ends with a bang but it doesn’t and oh how he wish it did because, because maybe he would have seen it earlier, maybe he would have seen the buildup, maybe he would have noticed everything fraying at the edges and could have done something,  _ anything _ , to stop the slow disintegration.

No, not disintegration. Nothing as big as that. Crumbling? Decomposing? Dismantling? Rotting?

What do you call it when two things that once fit so well together break apart at the seams and don’t fit together anymore?

_ “But aren’t you the one who dumped him?”  _ they will ask, eyes kind and concerned and  _ pitying _ . 

_ “You don’t get it!” _ he will scream later, even when his mind says ‘ _ stop taking out your anger on them they’re not the one who hurt you.’ _

But it’s true, they don’t understand, they can’t understand, they weren’t  _ there _ . 

_ “I’m going back to Canada _ .” 

_ “What.” _

It wasn’t even a question if he remembers correctly -  _ and oh he remembers, could sketch out the smallest details and write books on the exact moment he realised when everything wasn’t right  _ \- because there was something in his voice. Something that made him stop walking, something that made him clench his hands, something that made him come up with reasons (excuses) why. 

Why what? He doesn’t know. 

_ “I’m moving back to Canada,” he had repeated and there was nothing in his voice to tell Reki what he was feeling. He didn’t sound sad, didn’t sound angry, or apologetic, or hurt or frustrated. He didn’t sound like anything. “We’re leaving in a few days.” _

_ And maybe if there was something in his voice. Something that let him know that this reveal (confession? admittance?) was affecting him in some way maybe Reki would have understood. Maybe Reki would have turned around and held his hands and looked him in the eyes and said ‘Hey that’s fine, we can figure something out, we can make it work” but. _

_ “Why are you leaving?” _

_ There was a pause before Langa had answered. “The move was never supposed to be permanent. My mom she- she just needed to come back to Okinawa for a while. Our life is still in Canada. We were always going to go back.” _

_ Each sentence felt like a punch to the chest, each delivered with that same monotone voice, the one that Reki had previously found endearing but now made him want to strangle the other boy. _

_ He hadn’t turned around. Wouldn’t (couldn’t) bear looking at his face, seeing what expression - or lack of - would be on his face.  _

_ “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” _

_ He didn’t know why he was stalling. Didn’t know why he was trying to rationalise everything, didn’t know why he wanted Langa to keep talking even though each word broke him a little further. _

_ “I didn’t think it would matter.” _

_ “Didn’t think- ” he turned around then, hands in fists and tears in his eyes. “What the  _ fuck _ , do you mean that you didn’t think of telling  _ me _ , your fucking  _ boyfriend _ , that you’re moving to the other side of the fucking planet!” _

_ It was always gratifying getting Langa to show any sort of emotion. Not that he was expressionless, no, but he tended to emote more quietly, showing what he feels more through his actions than facial expressions. The pout he gets when he was frustrated with something, how that would transform into a smile after Reki kissed him. The soft look he would get when they were alone, legs tangled and fingers threaded together.  _

_ Reiki had treasured those moments, felt giddy with the knowledge that it was all for him. _

_ It hadn’t felt gratifying then, seeing something unfamiliar - shock - colour the boy’s features. _

_ “I didn’t- I mean, I just thought that we-” _

_ “Thought that we could  _ what _ , Langa?” Reiki hated this hated this hated this. “You thought you could what,  _ not _ tell me and pretend everything was fine until the day you don’t show up at my door in the morning and you text me while you’re on a fucking plane?” _

_ “But I-” _

_“But_ what _?_ _You, you always do this, not tell me things and expect me to, to somehow read your mind. Guess what_ Snow _” the nickname is spat out, laden with frustration and hurt and anger, “I’m not a fucking psychic. I’m so tired of having to constantly question what’s going on in your head instead of you telling me things!”_

_ “Reki-” _

_ “I’m done.” _

_ He hadn’t realised he was going to say those words until he did, and now that they were out in the air there was no taking them back.  _

_ “What?" _

_ And oh isn’t it ironic, watching the boy’s face transform, the myriad of emotions that flashed through his features, a mismatch of confusion-grief-shock that filled Reki with, with something.  _

_ (Heartbreak, his traitorous mind will whisper to him, when he is on the roof at school with no one beside him anymore).  _

_ “I’m done Langa” it’s hard for the words to come out again but, “I can’t keep doing this anymore.” _

_ “Reki wait,” he hasn’t heard that tone before. “We can, we can work it out I’m. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier but I promise I won’t do it again just  _ please-”

_ “We can’t.” _

It’s something that he couldn’t put into words, still can’t, because it seems so trivial when looking at it objectively. 

_ You should have listened to him. You should have accepted his apology. He didn’t mean anything bad by it, you know how he is. _

_ You could have made it work _ . 

But it wasn’t the 8,078 km distance, the fifteen-hour time difference, the fact that Canada is so  _ different _ from Okinawa and Reki can’t be sure Langa would have time for him anymore. It wasn’t the anxiety that gripped him when he imagines Langa walking through the halls of some nameless school, much more at ease than he ever was with him.

_ So what is it then? _

And that’s the thing. He’s not sure.

* * *

_ “You and I don’t balance each other out anymore” _ , he thinks, even as his other half leans against a window, thousands of feet above the ground, tears dripping down his face as he watches the world move past underneath him, ignoring the questioning stares of his mother. 

_ Maybe we never did.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Me: I don't think I can ever write a fic without a happy ending. Especially breakup fics. I don't even read them because I'd get too sad so why would I write them?
> 
> Also me: Did you know that Langa canonically would be a bad boyfriend because he's not considerate enough?  
> (here's the [proof](https://twitter.com/soukatsu_/status/1359253787223932930?s=20) in case you don't believe me)
> 
> The first 500 words were written in a caffeine-induced haze while I was procrastinating my English essay and when I went back to edit it three weeks later I cursed myself with each word. This is why I don't project unto fics. It doesn't end well for any of us. I haven't also properly looked it over so. Apologies.
> 
> I haven't ever written angst before and this style of writing is very new and experimental for me so if it doesn't make any sense I am well and truly story. 
> 
> (never said I won't do it again.)
> 
> Feedback is highly appreciated!
> 
> PS: I started this even before episode 7 came out because I wanted to see breakup renga. I was a fool.
> 
> (might edit this later)


End file.
